Jurassic Park: Looking Up
by Beautiful-Monster99
Summary: Amethyst Young is a simple,yet famous, paleontologist who never expected much in life. When John Hammond convinced her to go to Isla Nublar, she expected anything but large, prehistoric creatures. What she didn't expect was running for her life from living, breathing dinosaurs and, what she thought impossible, the possibility of love. Things really are looking up. [Alan Grant x OC]
1. Hammond's Invitation

_**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this isn't a chapter update, but this is a need to know update. **_

_**Okay so, I was re-reading over this so as to get inspiration for the new chapter, and I realized something.**_

 _ **This story is awful. **_

_**Like, I don't understand why you guys are still reading! Or why I have so many positive reviews for this story!**_

 _ **Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely astounded of the amount of reviews and likes and follows this story has!**_

 _ **Jurassic Park is my all time absolute favorite movie (ever since childhood, actually) and for this fanfiction to be my most highly rated one out of all the things I have written is just- Ugh! It's the happies feeling ever!**_

 _ **And because you guys have stuck with me, I will try and salvage this god-awful piece of work.**_

 _ **So, once again, I am re-writing this. I have made some changes to my character and her backstory and things, and instead of only going off the movie, I will also be going off of the book!**_

 _ **Hasta la Pasta~**_

* * *

It was chaos.

Complete and utter chaos.

Random items were scattered around the grassy area like land mines, half-up tents waved wildly in the breeze as one or more unfortunate people desperately tried to fully take down the tarps, and anyone who wasn't too busy doing this or was inside the tents packing away their belongings was scrambling around the campsite like chickens without heads. Just like a dog with it's tail set ablaze, I was running circles as well as trying to calm down my colleagues the best I could, however it was to no avail.

"Mein Gott, Leute! Bitte beruhige dich einfach! **[1]** " I yelled at the passing people who payed no mind to me. They were all in too much of a frenzy to even bother to look at me let alone respond to my plea, which was helping in no way shape or form in distinguishing my growing anger. I had tried to stay calm and collected, however my fellow workers had taken the news like they had been told the world was ending. Although, to them their world _was_ ending, and knowing that only fueled my internal fire.

Their reaction along with my own affiliation with the entirety of the situation was dangerously playing on my anxiety, causing me to be short-tempered with the panicked people. As I looked on helplessly at my friends as their lives slowly crumbled before them, I was seeing red, along with that smug, pretty-boy's face. That man, that terrible, _weasel_ of a man, was the cause of this. One single, selfish snake had just caused thirty-two good people to lose their jobs, and that man was _Lewis Dodgson_. Just thinking of that horrid man's name morphed my nerves into live wires.

It was nearly four months ago when me and my colleagues had gotten into a little disagreement with our investors - which happened to be the up-coming genetic company Biosyn - about the contract we had with them. The contract had stated that as long as me and my crew kept digging, Biosyn would keep funding. Well, at least until the three year contract was fulfilled. With all of the new and fancy machines that were meant to take over our jobs – or, how the companies had put it, "make digging and discovering fossils simpler" - being created every month or so, the job of a paleontologist was quickly becoming unimportant in the eyes of the evolving world.

Machines cannot put together the fossil fragments of an infant Compsognathus, but with the way technology constantly kept changing and improving and evolving it wouldn't be long before they were digging up the bones for us paleontologist. Unfortunately, it doesn't take many scientist to fit the bones together. So, with this realization hitting the scientific world like a ten ton bag of bricks to the gut, our investors had grown even more impatient for income from me and my team.

I hate to say it, but this is somewhat my fault. Ever since we had first signed the contract with Biosyn, me and the head of the CEO had been at each others throats on account of a little mishap during some lunch meeting. Apparently, the white shirt I had splashed wine upon when I had tripped just so happened to be extremely expensive, and 'one of his favorite shirts'. And so, they had cut off everything from us the moment the contract expired.

Dodgson had told me – no, _promised_ me – that he had smoothed things over with the investors; that he had made a new contract even, for another three years as well! _'Trust me',_ he had said, _'Things are looking up for you, Amy!'_ And trust him I did. At that moment, I hadn't known there was a reason not to trust the man. After all, he _is_ the head of Department of Research within Biosyn. Looking back now, I realized just how foolish a thing it was of me to believe a word he said. See, what Lewis Dodgson had so graciously forgotten to mention to me and my coworkers was this one tiny, little fact; if we had failed to collect a satisfactory amount of fossils by the end of every two months, Biosyn can terminate our contract immediately. With me discovering this with only three weeks before our set deadline and our original digging site at Snakewater, Montana suddenly being rented out by some other group of paleontologist, I was forced to move my excavation crew to West Glacier, another site in Montana. I was unbelievably grateful for the open digging site, however the sudden change of locations set us back an extra twelve and a half hours, not including the time it took to set up our tents and get all of our equipment ready.

Unfortunately, luck was not on our side. After a long few hours of me screeching into a phone and desperately wanting to murder every business person I had ever had the displeasure of meeting, I came to the sickening realization that one; we didn't make the cut. Two; Biosyn had dropped us. Three; me, including my thirty-two coworkers, were now jobless. And four, my personal anger inducing realization; that no-good, dead-man-walking Lewis Dodgson was no where to be found.

If he knew what was best for him, he would skip town and never show his face to me again if he was aiming to keep it pretty and perfect.

As my friends, my _family_ , scrambled around nonstop, gathering all of their supplies, _their life's work_ , and readied themselves to head back home in search for their new jobs, my hands ran through my long, dark locks in a repetitive loop. I wanted to help them; after all, if you wanted to be nit-picky, it was technically my fault that this was happening, but I had no idea how to help any of them. I was completely hopeless, and I hated the feeling.

I never was one to give up easily - my bullheadedness always was one of my many quirks that people found bothersome about my personality – and I was certainly not going to give up on this without a fight. Although, the more the odds against me continued to pile on top my shoulders, the more I wanted to crawl under a hole and slowly become nothing more than a pitiful, petrified fossil of a human in the fetal position.

A small hand rested upon my shoulder, and I turned to give a small, determined yet exhausted smile to my best friend. "Hello, Meka," I greeted.

My smile was not returned. "When's the last time you've slept?" Meka always had been the perceptive one in our friendship, and one of the things I adored about her most was her bluntness. However, the joy I felt whenever she used her motherly instincts on someone instantly dissipated when _I_ was the one about to be lectured.

I scoffed at the smaller woman, "how could I possibly sleep vhen zhere is a man's ass zhat needs kicking?" she winced at my foul language – despite studying abroad in Germany for well over five years, she still refused to learn any German curse words, and preferred for me to curse in the foreign language because of that reason - and I grumbled a small apology and said, "I mean, _ein_ _Arschloch_ that needs to be taught a lesson **[2]**."

Meka always was a soft-tempered woman. She had moved from Chicago to study paleobotony abroad in Germany at the age of eighteen. I was nineteen at the time. She had been my dorm mate, and after the first few months of neither of us understanding the other - what with her coming from America and me being born and raised in Germany – we started little English/German lessons every night before bed, and with those sessions came our friendship. Many said we made a strange pair on account of the fact that I was the short-tempered raging ball of fire with a loud mouth while she was the calm, cool, and collected one that mostly stood on the sidelines. In spite of this, I found her not only as my friend, but as my sister who occasionally kept me out of trouble. By the look her baby-blue eyes were giving me, she had turned 'big sister mode'.

"You're accent is showing. You need to get some sleep... And you should probably start packing-" I opened my mouth to exclaim my objection, however she raised her voice a hitch and immediately cut me off, " _you need to start packing._ It's over, Amy. The world doesn't need us anymore... and if we keep living in the past, we wont survive the future," she avoided my eyes like a scolded child would do their parent, and she awkwardly brushed a stray strand of iron-colored hair that refused to stay put in her loose bun back behind her ear.

"Vhat are you saying?" I exclaimed. "Are you suggesting ve just, just... forget all of zhis? All of zhe vork ve have done? _Everyzhing zhat you have vorked for_?"

Meka's eyes were the saddest I had ever seen them, and seeing that look seemed to brake something inside me; the part of me that was unwilling to give up. With that broken, a tiny voice in the back of my head told me that deep down, I knew she was right...

"I'm sorry, Amy," she said softly, "but I need to finish packing, and so do you. Biosyn is paying for our flight back home. Our flight leaves tomorrow morning." With that said, she hoisted up a large cardboard box full of what I could only assume must have been full of her collection of History books along with the full _Harry Potter_ series, and left to stuff the box inside the small trailer that held everyone's things.

I ran my hands through my hair once again, dangerously close to tears. With one last look at our destroyed excavation site, I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't let my friends see me like this and truthfully, I couldn't stand to see them at this moment either. They would not see me cry. It would only ruin their moods and make this entire situation even worse. So, I turned and made a run for it. I was one of the few who had a motor-home stationed here, and as soon as I entered the vehicle I slammed the door behind me.

My motor-home was not a pretty girl to look at; she was a 1973 Dodge Sportsman painted an off-white color with two faded green stripes down both of her sides. She's about 22 feet long with a van front and a bed over the driver cab that often reminded me of a certain Rock-and-Roll King's hairstyle (this being the reason I had named my motor-home Elvis Carsley to try and be funny. Even so, the name had stuck, my colleagues saying it was a more fitting name than the original one I had come up with; Betsy.)

The inside looked a great deal better than what one might have expected; upon entering through the side door, to the right of you held the driver's and passenger's seat, above them was the overhang that held an extra bed that you cold only get to by using the mini fridge, which was shoved inside a nook between the driver's seat and the wall, as a stepping stool. Against the wall and to the immediate left was a small, two-seat faded green couch and across from that, stationed directly under the single large window and almost directly in the center of the car, was the dinette set that folds out into another bed, which would be the one I usually slept in. Finally, there was the bathroom in the far back of the car, complete with a toilet, a sink, and a stand-up shower.

I let out a choked sob. My left fist flew to my mouth so as to try and silence myself; the last thing I needed was for someone to walk in on me mid-breakdown. My legs suddenly felt seconds away from giving out and I clutched the edge of the dinette table so as to steady myself. Using my hand as a silencer, I screamed into the fist and bit down onto my finger, trying not to punch a hole in the side of my truck.

And then, there was a knock on the door.

" _What?"_ I yelled out a little harsher than what I meant to. There was a few moments of silent hesitation before the door cracked open. It was Meka again, and I immediately felt even worse for raising my voice.

"Um, there's a visitor," she murmured, giving me a calculating look. I quickly wiped away any tears that had fallen and put on a bright smile.

"Alright, send them in!"

Her blue eyes glared at me as though I was a cornered animal ready to explode. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, "yep! Just fine."

"You don't have to be."

"I'm _fine_ , I promise! Now, go finish packing," I shooed her away with a flick of my hands and she cracked a smile. She turned to leave, and paused.

"Everything's going to be okay. I can feel it."

I smiled at my best friend. Meka left and I let out a relieved sigh, my smile completely vanishing. She didn't need to see me like that. As I wiped away excess tears from my tanned cheeks, there was a knock on the door and I called for the person to come in. The man who walked through the door was anything but what I had expected, although, we _are_ out in the wilderness of Montana so I wasn't sure who I had expected. He was an older man somewhere in his late fifties with thinning, snowy-white hair along with a matching beard to frame his round face. He peeked at me with his deep blue eyes through black-rimmed glasses and his pink face broke out into a wide, tooth-y smile.

"Ah! Hello there, my dear!" he greeted with open arms like I had been a long-lost friend. "You must be Dr. Amethyst Young, am I correct?

"That's me," I said with a smile and offered him my hand. He took it within both of his and shook it with surprising force.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear Amy, truly a pleasure!"

"Yes," I nonchalantly slipping my hand, which he was holding slightly longer than what was needed, out of his grip. "It's nice to meet you as well, mister...?"

"John Hammond!"

"John Hammond..." I trailed, the name ringing a bell of familiarity somewhere in the back of my mind. I mulled over the words, repeating it softly so as to jog my memory further, and I finally was hit with the realization of this man's identity. "Oh, John Alfred Hammond, right? You're the CEO of that one company. Was it... InGen? The rivals of Biosyn?"

"Ah, so my reputation proceeds me," he laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"I attended a meeting in Biosyn once. They wouldn't _stop_ talking about you."

"Yes well," he chuckled with a shake of his head, "I am not very well liked over there. It's because I'm smarter than them."

I laughed at that, then offered, "Wanna beer?" He said yes, and I reached into the fridge and pulled out two cans, handing him one while popping the cap of mine and taking a large, un-lady-like swig while Hammond only took a small sip. "So," I took another quick swig, "to what do I owe the honor of your company today, Mr. Hammond? I _do_ work with Biosyn, you know."

"Yes, I am well aware – oh, and call me John, I insist! I am also aware that your contract with Biosyn was canceled recently. Word gets around rather quickly at InGen," he informed at my confused stare. Although, that still didn't explain how he knew of us being dropped by Biosyn within a mere two hours of its confirmation.

Momentarily deciding to ignore this, I instead asked, "what does that have to do with anything, Mr.- I mean, John?"

"It has to do with everything!" he exclaimed. I blinked. Cracking a smile, he continued like he would explode if he kept his mouth shut for any longer. "I was already in the area when I had heard about your unfortunate situation. I know how hard being dropped by your company can be, especially with jobs for paleontologist thinning now-a-days. When Biosyn made such a drastic mistake of dropping one of the finest paleontologist of today, I just _knew_ I had to salvage the situation!"

"So, you came to offer me a job?" I asked uncertainly.

"Well, it's no secret that you _are_ one of the best!"

I couldn't believe my ears. Was this man being serious? It was too good to be true. "... I decline your offer, Mr. Hammond." Immediately his happy smile faltered like someone had just told him he had an incurable disease. "I'm sorry, John, but I just can't. I can't leave these people," I gestured outside to my friends; the people who did not have job offers lined up at their door. "We're all in this together. If you get me, you get them all."

He was silent, and then he was laughing. Laughing so loud I half thought he had turned mad. "Amy dear, of _course_ they will be hired as well! In fact, I was planning to fund your entire excavation for a further three years! This is, after all, one of the best excavation groups in America. Although, if you wish to decline my offer, I'm sure I can find some other group of paleontologist who would gladly jump at this opportunity."

"Well now, hold on-" the knowing look and chortles he gave me told me he was only joking. I let out a small sigh and ran a hand from my face and up into my hair, undoubtedly leaving a dirty streak down my face. "Okay so, if I do accept your offer, what then?"

"You'd continue your excavations and studies, of course!"

"That's not what I meant," I shook my head lightly and took another sip from my drink. "What I mean is; what do you want _me_ to do? I don't know why you're willing to fund us, John Hammond, but I'm almost positive it has something to do with me."

His eyes locked onto mine, calculating and judging, and I suddenly felt like a pile of fossils being examined by a hawk. Hammond smiled. "You know what, Amy? You're quite perspective. I rather like that trait."

"So, you _do_ have something for me to do?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." he confirmed with a bright grin. "Dr. Amethyst Young, one of the worlds finest paleontologist," he started off with glee. "I have a proposition for you. I own an Island just off the coast of Costa Rica. I've spent the last five years setting up a biological preserve down there. Really spectacular, spared no expense! It makes the one in Kenya look like a petting zoo!"

"A biological preserve?"

He nodded like a bobble head. "Yes, yes, yes! We're actually going to open up shop within the year!That is, if the lawyers don't get me on the way. I don't care much for lawyers, do you?"

With an annoyed huff, we were both reminded of my situation. "Lawyers have the tenancy to not be liked by people they screw over."

He laughed loudly, "I'll have to agree with you there! As of lately, I've had one particular pebble in my shoe. He represents my investors. Says that they insist on outside opinions. Right _snake_ that man is."

"Outside opinions?" I questioned, deciding to ignore how strange it was to here the old man insult someone. "You mean, 'just got hired by the company an hour ago' outside opinions?"

"Oh no, that's not what I meant-"

"Then what _do_ you mean, John?" I interrupted, suddenly realizing just how tired I was. I had been dealing with Biosyn since four this morning, and I still had to help the group either finish packing or start unpacking, depending on where this conversation was headed. "What kind of outside opinions do you need?"

"I'm glad you asked, Amy, I'm glad you asked! _Your kind_ , Dr. Young. Let's face it, in your particular field, you're on the top! So, if I could just get you to, oh, I don't know, give a _wee_ testimonial on my preserve? Then I could get right back on schedule sooner than you can say Micropachycephalosaurus! And you know, the investors would just _love_ for a paleontologist or two to sign off on the park."

I thought for a moment. "Why would they care what I have to say?"

"Well, as I said before, you _are_ one of the best!"

I rolled my eyes, "yes, but, a _paleontologist_? Why do they need a paleontologist to give a testimonial for a- a _zoo_?"

"Oh, it's more than just a zoo, I can assure you! Just _trust me!_ I promise you, Dr. Young, you won't regret it," he smiled and giddily and took a sip of his drink. I took a gulp of mine. ' _Just trust me'._ The exact words Lewis Dodgson had said to me before I lost my job.

I leaned against the table by using my right hand to hold my weight while my left held the almost empty can. I looked out the window; everyone was still very active. They carried their luggage like it weighed a hundred pounds, and dragged the tarps of their tents like a T-Rex had sat upon it.

"If I do this," I started, not taking my eyes off of my miserable friends. "You'll fund us, correct?"

"For a further three years," he confirmed with a nod and a smile.

Then I saw her; Meka. She was looking at me and she smiled with a small wave, then continued helping a young man with his things. The boy's name was Jack. This was his first excavation.

"Them and their families get the best insurance you can buy, and nothing will change that, no matter what ends up going wrong in the future. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Make it five years funding and you've got a deal."

* * *

 **[1] My god, people! Please calm down!**

 **[2] An asshole**


	2. Introduction Catastrophe

"I can go with you if you want me to."

"No, Meka, you're not coming."

...

"I can go with you, you know."

"Yes, I know you can."

...

"...I think I should come." I let out a loud, exasperated sound and threw my hands up, the shirt I was folding flew out of my grasp and toppled into my suitcase in the process. I directed my warning glare at my friend, however I couldn't keep my face straight and broke out into a large grin as hers did the same.

"For the last time," I stated once again, my words coming out deliberately slow, "you are not coming. And I don't want to hear another word about it." I picked up my discarded tank top and began to refold the dark purple cloth while Meka rolled her eyes and did the same with a pair of jean shorts. We settled into a comfortable silence and I was actually able to finish folding the shirt. My dinette was covered in something other than food for once; my suitcase splayed open on one half of the table while the other half, including both benches, were overflowing with piles of clothes. I was packing for my trip with John Hammond while Meka was helping me do my laundry. I reached for my second shirt and Meka spoke again.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

I threw my head back and shouted out with great and painful agony, _"Meka!"_ Said woman simply chuckled like an innocent angel. I scowled, "I will be gone for one weekend, not forever. I don't need you to hold my hand, and I certainly don't need you postponing your honeymoon. I'm sure Justin wouldn't appreciate me swapping your trip to Italy for a trip to a half-finished museum, especially when I practically stole you during the wedding reception."

"oh, Justin can come, too. We can always go to Italy some other time-"

"Jesus, Meka, _no!"_ The half-folded shirt in my hand was, then, completely disheveled as it flew through the air and hit Meka in the shoulder, then thrown back in my face. Folding the abused article of clothing with a huff, I finally was able to stuff the gray shirt into the corner of the suitcase that already housed the folded purple shirt, and went to work at folding the third one. "Listen, you are going to Italy to spend some quality time with your husband, and I'm going to some random Island off the coast of Costa Rica with a group of strangers. See? We're both going to have a fun weekend. Now, can you grab me a ponytail holder?"

"What's the magic word?" she asked as she reached over the driver's seat and grabbed a small black band from the console. She tossed it to me and I snatched the band out of the air.

 _"Thank you!"_ I drawled and Meka playfully rolled her eyes and murmured, "close enough".

After successfully getting six sets of clothes – which consisted of four pairs of tank tops and jean shorts along with two thin, button-up shirts and skinny jeans just in case there was a need to dress up for dinner - was neatly folded and stacked in one corner of the bag, an oversized sweatshirt and baggy boy-shorts (courtesy of some long forgotten boyfriend) as my nightwear in another corner, my toothbrush, toothpaste, and face wash wrapped in a towel, and to fill up the remainder of the empty spaces of the small suitcase being the socks and underwear I had mindlessly tossed inside, I was finally finished with packing.

"Alright, looks like I'm done," I stated as I zipped up the suitcase. "What about you; do you need help with anything?" She shook her head, her hair swaying lazily with the movement. I smiled at my best friend. She was more of a sister to me actually - she always had been. I knew I could always count on her, and her me. We just had that kind of bond; a bond I never had with any of my real siblings. "Thank you," I said suddenly. My fingers twiddled the ends of my shirt. I never was too good with gooey emotion stuff. "Not for the packing - well, thank you for that as well, but just - thank you… Do you know what I mean?"

She smiled softly. "Yes, I know what you mean." And with that, she hugged me and I hugged back. People always did say my hugs could say a thousand words when my mouth couldn't speak one. As I hugged my sister tightly, she gave out a soft sort of squeal-giggle sound and bustled out, "thing's are going to start looking up for you, Amy!"

* * *

I looked up at the helicopter quizzically, surprised and, if I was being honest, a little fearful of the metal contraption. Yes, I could easily fly in a large plane in order to get from one country to a new, however, flying in a small metal cage with hardly any room to move my arms was not my cup of tea. As I kicked a rock absentmindedly, my mind floating back to the note I had received from Hammond telling me when and where our flight would be, I couldn't help but wonder if I had gotten the wrong information or if I had read the note wrong.

The engine of the helicopter had already started sometime before I had arrived, and I could see the silhouettes of people seated inside. As I contemplated whether or not to call Hammond, a flight attendant suddenly appeared at my side and quickly took my suitcase. He offered to take my bag, but I politely declined and the man led me by the elbow to the helicopter, opened the door, then helped me climb inside. He left with a dip of his hat and a wink before firmly sealing the door shut. I let out a relieved sigh as Hammond was there to greet me.

"Ah, Amy, welcome!" the old man greeted. He was seated in the seat directly opposite me, and he had to lean over the isle and the man who sat rather awkwardly to my left so as to make his white teeth fully visible to me.

"Hello, Hammond," I greeted back, to which he complained about my use of his last name once again.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times; call me _John!"_ I simply rolled my eyes, but apologized anyway, putting emphasis on 'John'. A few people chuckled, and I suddenly felt foolish for my mind not processing the obvious fact that there were more people than just me, John, and the guy seated between us.

As the helicopter gave a sudden lurch and gradually began to drag itself lazily off of the ground, my hands clawed at the arm rest tightly and I sucked in a deep breath, not letting it go until the swaying had stopped somewhat.

Everyone gave the other odd looks, wondering who would be first to break the silence while silently hoping it wouldn't have to be them. It wasn't until the helicopter was well on it's way in it's trek through the clouds when, unsurprisingly, Hammond was the one to disturb our quiet judging.

"So, introductions!" he clapped his hands with glee. "Everybody, this is Dr. Amethyst Young. She is head of the German expedition and, starting this past Thursday, now works for me!" The old man's introduction somehow made me feel like a celebrity, and the way the people looked at me made me feel no different. Luckily, my embarrassment was quickly covered up when Hammond wasted no time in continuing introducing the others. "Amy, dear, this is Donald Gennaro, my lawyer," he gestured the the awkward man next to me, who gave me a small, unsure wave. Gennaro wore a brown suit jacket over a white dress shirt along with matching brown colored pants, making his status as a stereotypical lawyer quite evident and I faintly wondered if his personality was stereotypical as well.

"And that's Dr. Ian Malcolm, the mathematician." Hammond gestured to the other man on the opposite side of the lawyer.

"Um, actually, it's chaotician," Malcolm corrected Hammond. The man then leaned over the lawyer – who tried awkwardly to lean away from the man but was stopped short by the seat – and sent a charming smile flying my way. "Hi. Dr. Ian Malcolm; chaotician. I also do maths." This man was dressed in a black leather jacket, black T-shirt, black pants, black shoes; basically everything the man wore was some shade, or, if it was possible, darker than black. And although we were seated inside a metal bird, the man wore thick sunglasses. The image of the man, including the air around him, faintly reminded me of a rock star. The atmosphere that radiated off of the mathematician/chaotician also struck me as being more amused by this trip than anything else.

I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Little warm for black, isn't it?"

"You're extremely pretty, Amy, I could look at your legs all day," Malcolm said, then turned and spoke to the blond woman seated across from Gennaro, "I could say the same to you, ma'am," and he winked.

The blond woman's mouth dropped and her eyes widened, and my face undoubtedly mirrored her own. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as my brain tried to come up with something to say to the man, however his comment was so sudden I was unable to think.

Without warning, Hammond clocked the side of the mathematician's head with his walking stick and shot him a warning look. Malcolm rubbed the abused area and sent a weary glare towards John Hammond.

Clearing his throat, the playboy-in-black continued without taking his watchful eyes off of the old man in white, "but, no. As a matter of fact, black is an excellent color for heat. If you remember your black-body radiation, black is actually best in heat. Efficient radiation. In any case, I only wear two colors; black and gray."

Hammond continued quickly so as to try and rid some of the tense air that had crowded into the small space. "Well, yes, um... A-and this is Ellie Sattler our paleobotanist, and that's Alan Grant, our other paleontologist. These two are head of their own expedition group; one that I have been funding for the past five years or so."

"Alan Grant?" I questioned softly. The man in front of me perked at the sound of his name.

"You've heard of me?"

I nodded, "yeah, I think so." His face broke out into a smile and his mouth opened, most likely to say something along the lines of how flattered he was, but I quickly interrupted the man. "Your groups is currently down at Snakewater, correct?" He gave Sattler an odd look, clearly wondering how I could have known that information, and I knew immediately that I had the right man.

"As a matter of fact, yes. How-"

"Ah, I remember you two now!" I exclaimed with a sweet smile. "Yes, down at Snakewater; the site _my_ excavation was supposed to be at!" With that said, the man's eyes widened with realization. I crossed my arms and, although my lips were smiling, my eyes were lit with flames. "Isn't that one hell of a coincidence, Dr. Grant?"

He smiled rather awkwardly and settled his intertwined fingers on his lap, "Dr. Amethyst Young; I was wondering why your voice sounded so familiar. You're the one who called me the day after my group arrived at Snakewater. The one who cursed at me in – what I now know is German – for a good, what was it? Hour, hour and a half?" I smiled at the fond memory, and nodded in confirmation.

"And you're the one who swiped Snakewater – which was already booked, mind you – right from under me."

"I'm sure you found another site."

"As a matter of fact I did. West Glacier, to be precise."

"Ah, West Glacier. We had our excavation there around three months ago. Found a lot there. How was it?"

"Bone dry. We didn't meet our monthly quota with our investors. They dropped us."

"Is that so?" Dr. Grant, then, coughed awkwardly and rubbed his hands together in a nervous fidget. The silence that followed was almost insufferable and thick with tension as everyone shifted awkwardly in their seats, and I glared so intensely Grant and Sattler that they may as well have melted into the seat in result of my flaming, brown eyes.

That's when Hammond jumped in with a quick, "but it's not all black and white; Amy is working for me now! You two could even merge your groups together, if you both want to be at Snakewater. Isn't that a nice thought?"

 _"A brilliant one,"_ I mumbled, although I'm not entirely sure Hammond picked up on the sarcasm since his face beamed brightly, believing he had fixed the problem. Malcolm, deciding someone needed to brake the tension, came up with a random question.

"So, you three, um, dig up - dig up dinosaurs?" It was a harmless question, however inconvenient it somehow was. Judging by Sattler's and Grant's reaction, it must have been awkward for them as well.

"Well," Sattler drawled, trying to come up with a suitable answer.

"We try to," Grant finished with a thin-lipped smile.

Malcolm nodded and, oddly enough, began laughing; laughing as though he believed the very idea was funny. Hammond wasn't amused.

"You'll have to get used to Dr. Malcolm," John explained with a shake of his head. "He suffers from deplorable excess of personality and is a man of strong opinions."

"And mad as a hatter! And that's chaotician, John," Malcolm corrected cheerfully once again. He then leaned over a flustered Gennaro – who had wisely chosen to stay silent through the entire dreadful ordeal. "John doesn't subscribe to chaos, particularly what it has to say about his little project."

I had read about the chaos theory, although not near enough to carry out a conversation about the subject, and knew the general idea of what the chaos theory was. It has something to do with the butterfly effect, I believe? Something small happens which eventually leads to something big? Or was it about unpredictability...

Hammond turned to Gennaro and threw his hands up, "I can not believe you invited him." The old man spat out the word 'him' like it was a poisoned word, and made a face like it left a bad taste behind so as to taint his tongue. Gennaro's downcast face radiated embarrassment.

"And it's a good thing you did," Malcolm said, "because it sounds as if you have a serious problem." I looked at Malcolm with scrunched eyebrows. A serious problem on the island we were headed to? _'How convenient.'_

"Codswallop, Ian!" Hammond exclaimed and waved his hand dismissively. "We have no problem. Besides, you've never been able to sufficiently explain your concerns about this island." Malcolm shrugged with indifference.

I was suddenly hit with the small, nagging feeling that this little meeting didn't go just as John Hammond had planned it to go.


	3. Scientific Breakthrough

The old man before me was all but bouncing in his seat. He was like a kid on his way to Disney World. The island had just been spotted on the horizon and already I was worried I would have to be the hero and save the old man from jumping out the window and swimming the rest of the way from pure excitement. The island is beautiful, I will admit, and the closer we get the more I understand why Hammond had bought the island in the first place. As the helicopter flew closer towards the place, I got the feeling that we were headed into an entirely different world.

If I had the money for it, I would buy an island just like this. Having a place in perfect isolation where not only me but my colleagues as well could go; somewhere that would always have a place for us to go. A place where we wouldn't have to worry about meeting a quota at the end of the month or being cut off from our only source of money. But, that is just a dream, and it is no special one. I'm sure everyone wants a place like that. I am just a worn out match among millions, and it seems that Hammond is one of the special few who have been lit. However, it is only a guess at how long his match will stay aflame.

The ocean water was a beautiful deep blue color that hugged the island in a possessive way, guarding the place from the outside world. The island itself was large – larger than what I would have ever have guessed – and the dark, healthy green mountains rolled against the clear blue orb that is the sky. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold. The place was so beautiful that, as the copter glided over the ocean and into the mountains, my fear of heights went almost completely disregarded.

I will also admit that Hammond knew how to make an entrance. The copter rounded yet another jagged mountainside and the first thing I noticed was the waterfall. The second thing I noticed were the red and gray jeeps parked next to the concrete landing pad.

"Bad wind shears," Hammond informed us, moving my attention from the outside world to him. "We'll have to drop pretty fast; so hold on!" No sooner had he said it the chopper gave a great lurch, and my stomach did flips. My awareness for heights was back again. Despite him without a doubt seeing the fear and sickness that overcame my face, Hammond laughed it off with a joking, "yahoo!" The others gave off a laugh, but I noticed Gennaro's was more breathless and his face was as white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to pass out and I probably didn't look too far off. The poor lawyer's shaky hands fiddled with the buckle until it finally snapped together and mine quickly followed suit. The others soon did the same.

All but Dr. Alan Grant; who's buckle ends were the same. He looked around him with a small confused smile, not completely sure what to do. I managed a laugh around my hurling stomach. The helicopter began its descent to ground level and I could only hope it would not be a long journey. Either that or for some doggy bags. I tried to take my mind off of the battle in my belly by watching the torture session Alan was undergoing. Dr. Sattler was trying and failing to contain her giggling while Old Man Hammond leaned over her legs, shouting out instructions at the male paleontologist with the miss-matched belt.

"No, no! You need that piece over here," Hammond was saying. "And that piece goes there. No, not that one – look, we'll of landed by the time you've got it right!" With a sudden stroke of genius, Dr. Grant tied the two belt ends together into a knot. It was a smart move and I found myself smiling at the cleverness. However, his blue eyes suddenly snapped up to meet my surprised ones, and he smirked proudly. In an instant my smile was gone and I was glaring out the window with a low huff. It was a clever move, tying the belts, but I didn't want the cocky prick knowing that.

The chopper finally touched the ground and my stomach was almost instantly relieved knowing we would not crash to our deaths. The flight attendants came on either side of the chopper and opened both doors, offering us a warm welcome and a helping hand. I made a move for the opening, stopping short when Grant did the same. He hesitated as well and, to my surprise, he gestured for me to go.

"Lady's first," he said with a charming smile. My eyes narrowed. I knew what he was doing; he was trying to make me overlook the fact that he got me fired from Biosyn.

I'm not sure what came over me. Meka did always scolded me for my brash behavior. She always told me that I should think before I acted. However, Meka wasn't here and this man had made it on my bad list with flying colors. I smiled sweetly at the man and with a grand gesture of my arms I said, "then after you."

I was expecting him to scowl. I expected his smile to turn to a snarl. I wanted him to say something snarky in retaliation. In fact, I was expecting him to do just about anything than what actually happened. He chuckled, shook his head, then crawled out, heading for the jeeps. I was awestruck. I was dumbfounded. I had no idea how to react. I must have been making a face because the attendant began to laugh loudly. I scowled and growled out, "ach halt den Mund, **[1]** " and pushed past him roughly. I made a point to jump in the vehicle that didn't occupy the male paleontologist, which happened to be the one that carried John Hammond and Donald Gennaro.

The drivers took little time in driving off, and the waterfall and helicopter were quickly behind us. I wondered hopefully if Hammond would let me take a boat back to the mainland. After all, as sad as it might be, this is a sort of vacation to me and it is sure to be a bust. Or, at least have more work involved than relaxation. Hopefully I can convince the old man to let me travel back in a party boat or something...

The scenery of the island was much more beautiful up close than it ever would be from the air. The Giant Banyan Trees stretched up almost a hundred feet each; reaching up and trying to grasp the blue sky with their giant leaves. Each trunk were nearly large enough for the jeeps to drive through. The foliage on the ground level were thick and clustered together so tightly it was hard to decipher where one tree trunk ended and another began. And everything was a mix of dark and bright greens; not one plant looked even close to death. The nature here was quite extraordinary and I couldn't help but to be somewhat jealous of John Hammond and his money. I never cared much of the thought of being rich, but if money could buy someone a place like this I could definitely reconsider that thought.

We rounded yet another mini mountainside and I had to blink hard at the sight I saw. It was a giant mass of metal, each bar as thick as my body, and wires as thick as my arms. It was a gate; and a big one at that. The entrance was as high as the trees and the fence stretched out on either side for as far as I could see – which wasn't too far, considering the thick foliage. The thing looked so out of place in the beautiful world it was in and I found myself wondering why Hammond would have a need to put this metal monstrosity here.

As we got closer, I saw a handful of workers scrambling around the control panel. I was confused as to why such a big control panel was needed until I saw the signs that decorated the fence. My heart skipped a beat. The sign read:

 _DANGER_

 _HIGH VOLTAGE_

 _10,000 VOLTS_

And to finish the stomach-churning picture was a human hand being zapped.

 _'Why on Earth would Hammond have something like this? Is security really that bad here? I guess some people can't help but to steal the hotel towels...'_ The joking thought was meant to calm my nerves, however all it did was confuse me further. What other possible reason would cause John Hammond to feel the need for such drastic security?

At this time I realized that Hammond and the awkward lawyer were talking and I decided to listen in. After all, I might hear a reason for the deadly mass of metal. As the entrance was quickly left behind, Gennaro – who was seated at my right – leaned over me cautiously and said to Hammond, "The full fifty-miles of perimeter fence are in place?"

"And the concrete moats," the older male nodded. "And the motion-sensor tracking systems. Donald, my dear boy, relax. Try and enjoy yourself!" He gave my knee a squeeze, "that goes for you, too, dear."

Gennaro didn't seem too convinced and he laughed dryly. "Let's get something straight, John; This is not a weekend excursion. This is a serious investigation of the stability of the island. Your investors – whom I represent – are _deeply_ concerned. Forty-eight hours from now, if they're not convinced, _I'm_ not convinced. I'll shut you down, John." The sudden authority and demanding tone the quiet lawyer suddenly took on was a great surprise. On any normal occasion, I might have laughed. However I got an air of warning from Donald Gennaro; like the island truly wasn't safe.

Hammond quickly blew the lawyer off by saying, "in forty-eight hours, _I_ will be accepting _your_ apology."

"Actually Hammond," I quickly intervened before the subject could change, "I have my questions on the island as well." He grinned brightly and urged me to continue. "Well, for starters, why do you need electrified fencing and motion-tracking systems and concrete moats? Forgive me for thinking out of the box here, but it kind of sounds like you're trying to encase something on the island? I mean, you're not going to kidnap us, are you?" The man laughed like he thought the question was a joke.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the lawyer suddenly cut in gawkily, "you mean he hasn't told you why you're here?"

I shook my head. "No, not exactly."

"Does anyone know why they are here?"

Hammond was smiling, not seeing the problem. "Of course not! It wouldn't be a surprise if everyone knew, now would it?" Gennaro threw his hands in the air then muffled his face in his palms, mumbling out something along the lines of, "someone's going to have a heart attack..." Hammond laughed.

Before I could ask what the lawyer meant, the jeep took a sharp right and slammed me into the man's side. I tried to apologize but my voice was lost in the wind as the car raced through a jagged valley. A particularly violent bump had me spiraling for the floorboard. I had just enough time to blink before we hit another one and I decided it wasn't worth trying to get back up. That was, until, John Hammond stood up in his seat.

"Good God, man!" I shouted and lunged for his jacket; trying to yank him back down. "Hammond, _sit down!_ You're going to get yourself killed!" The bumps seemed to get worse and I cursed loudly and tugged hard on his shirt, but the man did not budge. Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes and my head hit the back of the seat. My hands loosened its hold from the impact, and within that short amount of time the old man was out of the car. At first my disheveled mind thought he had fallen out, but then I saw the door was opened. Gennaro tapped on my shoulder and asked if I was okay, then he took me by the hand and helped me back into the seat.

"I'm okay," I said while trying to brush back my tousled strands of hair. I opened my mouth to thank the man but was cut short by a low, sort of trumpeting sound. My brows scrunched in confusion, and I turned around to see what could have possibly have made a sound like that. I blanched at the sight before me.

I stumbled out of the jeep in a daze; everything was whirling around me and my legs felt like jell-o. I took not three steps before I had to stop myself from falling. "I don't believe it," I mumbled and the sound was foreign to my ears. I almost didn't want to say what was on my mind. How could it ever possibly be true? How could I not be hallucinating from the contact my head had with the back of the seat? How could I be staring at a dinosaur? "I really don't believe it…" Ripping my eyes away from the beautiful beast I gaped at Hammond, who simply grinned at me. "Is that thing _real?"_

"Yes, Amy," he chuckled, "It's real." And suddenly I believed him. To hear the jolly old man confirm my suspicions made the reality of things all the more true. The Brachiosaurus before me took another step closer to the tree it was currently grazing on and the ground vibrated.

The strange and sudden sensation throughout my legs caught me off balance and I fell to my knees. John Hammond laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. He was talking, but I wasn't hearing a word of it. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that this happy-go-lucky man had actually created living, breathing, dinosaurs.

"I take it they're not animatronics," Dr. Malcolm suddenly said from behind me. "They're very lifelike."

"Yes, they certainly are," Hammond replied, somewhat annoyed. "Well, they should be, shouldn't they?"

In a sudden moment of realization, I quickly slung my bag over my shoulder and plopped it on the ground, unzipped it, and took out a pencil and an old and worn leather notebook. I flipped a little over midway through the book and began rapidly sketching the glorious creature down in the first clear page while jotting down some quick notes as well.

"What are you doing?" Someone asked. It was Dr. Grant.

"Making observation notes and sketches for further research later." I didn't bother to look up from my work to answer, too focused on the more important task before me.

"That's a.. That's a good idea," his voice trailed off thoughtfully as he drifted off into his own dazed and confused mind.

I hummed in response and kept with my writing, only pausing briefly to ask, "how fast are they?"

Hammond glanced at me from over his shoulder, then back at the creature thoughtfully. "Hmm. I'd say we clocked the T-Rex at… Was it forty-five? Yes, around forty-five miles per hour."

My rapid hand movements froze. _'Did.. Did he just say-?'_

"Um, T-T-Rex?" Alan voiced my thoughts. "You said you have a - a _T-Rex?"_

John grinned. "Yes, we have a T-Rex!"

My pencil slipped from my fingers and I felt as though I was sent tumbling down a cliff. Alan looked how I felt. His face grew paler and he stumbled, barely catching himself from falling. He slowly dropped his hands onto his knees so as not to hurt himself. Hammond and Ellie laughed, although Ellie's was breathless and more nervous than anything, and she looked as though she was about to collapse as well. John raised a bushy, white brow, looking at us almost as though we were all overreacting to the most normal thing in the world. Then, Hammond was pointing. I followed his hand and my heart very well could have stopped.

It was beautiful. The rolling valley stretched out it's bright green arms and hugged the treeline loosely. A small pond sat at the end of the hill next to the trees and with the way the sun hit its shimmering surface the pond looked as though it was a dancing fire. And wadding in the water or trotting on the grass while making the most beautiful and spectacular sounds I had ever hear were more dinosaurs. I didn't know whether to cry or laugh! Here I was; trapped on an isolated island with a group of total strangers just to give a testimonial on a park, and the park his living, breathing, dinosaurs.

Two Brachiosaurus, six Parasaurolophus, and numerous of tiny dinosaurs I couldn't identify from this distance, all moving together. Like a group or a pack.

No, as a _herd_.

"They move in herds," I whispered.

"They _do_ move in herds," Grant ended my statement when I couldn't. I wasn't surprised to know that he as well was amazed by the new and unexpected discovery.

For many years scientist had argued back and forth over whether or not dinosaurs really did move in herds; however much evidence once side had, it would almost immediately get proven wrong yet again by the other side. It was like a beach ball; always bouncing back and forth over the net, never staying on one side for too long.

Paleontology was not an easy job; far from it, actually! It's almost like being a detective, but more. Paleontologist must dig for clues in the fragile rocks that were once bone, try their best to connect the dots that were no longer there, and finally make a deduction on their findings and wait for the new scientist with the more clever deduction to overthrow the other with its conflicting evidence. It was a never-ending cycle, however the never-ending game could very well come to a very untimely halt soon. This very well could be the place to discover those unanswered questions! The answer to a centuries old questions that, by studying fossils, scientist could only assume the answers too!

I returned to my notes, my writing sloppy and sketches shaky with my excitement.

"Dr. Alan Grant. My _dear_ Dr. Ellie Sattler and Dr. Amethyst Young. I welcome you to Jurassic Park!" The old man stretched out his arms, fully introducing us to all of his madness and glory.

"How?" Alan asked delicately. "How did you do this?"

John smiled. "I'll show you… Come along, now, lets go! Much to see, not enough time!" I couldn't agree more. If what Hammond had said about there being a tyrannosaurus was true then I didn't want to waste any time. 'And just think of all of the different breeds he could have!'

"Another question, Dr. Hammond?" I asked, trying to hide the tremor of excitement in my voice. I couldn't help but feel like a child in a candy store, every new dinosaur a different sweet for me to choose from. "Do you know how many dinosaurs are on this island?" I was trying not to get my hopes up too high. How many animals could there be, anyways? Creating an actual dinosaur must be a difficult task, so there couldn't be that many, right?

"If you add all fifteen species together, then we have exactly two hundred and thirty-eight animals."

* * *

 **[1] Oh, shut up**


	4. Possible Partnership

No one spoke as the jeeps started up again, still trying to absorb the new information like a dog trying to eat peanut butter. I hardly even noticed the bumps anymore; hell, I didn't even remember jumping back into the damned vehicle! I simply sat in my seat, staring at my sketches and re-reading the notes, trying to recall if the extraordinary event truly had happened or not. My mind was a jumble of random science terms and information and just a big blur of jumbled science that I was unable to comprehend.

John Hammond's chattering voice idly reached my ears, but my mind was unable to register any of what he said and I hoped his conversation wasn't directed at me. I was so overtaken in my own dazed and confused thoughts that I hadn't realized that we had pulled up to our final destination for the day until Hammond patted my leg and told me so. We drove under a nature-made tunnel of leaves that arched over the road that lead to the visitor building. Everywhere I looked I could see dark, elaborate green plants; plants that I had never seen before. It felt like I was leaving the real world behind by entering this jungle-like beauty and into an entirely new and, on some levels, terrifying world. However, a great surge of confidence washed over me and I knew that I was ready for it.

During the short ride for the visitor building, although I hadn't noticed it at the time, I had slowly began to accept the fact that I was on an island with dinosaurs. It was a very odd thought – and not normal by any means – but I accepted it all the same. Now, as I stared at my notes and read over them for the hundredth time over I was filled with a great surge of excitement. I wanted to do everything; I wanted to check their feet and inspect their toe pads and feel their skin and open their mouths and have a look at their teeth. I wanted to know every last, little detail about these creatures and I couldn't wait to begin my entirely new form of research.

When the jeep stopped, I leaped out and immediately began my studying of the visitor center. I looked on in awe; the building was beautiful. It was a huge stone grass hut surrounded by many more exotic plants and what looked like a path that lead past an elegant gate and to a pool in the back. I took a quick peek through the wired bars and saw that there was indeed a swimming pool; one that, from the main pool, overfilled and ran over a waterfall and into a smaller pool. This process was repeated a few times until it finally filled into what I assumed by the puffs of steam it bellowed out was a hot tube.

"Extraordinary," the whisper passed over my lips like a ghost.

"Isn't it, though?" the sudden voice of Hammond startled me slightly, and, of course, he chuckled at my reaction. "And it very well should be extraordinary. These are authentic Jurassic ferns!" I gaped at him, my hands instantly itching for my notebook. However, the old man wasn't one to wait in one place for too long and he was already trying to direct me to the front of the building. Everyone looked over the bars, 'ooh-ed' and 'aw-ed' at the pools, then began to follow John Hammond. All except for the blonde paleobotanist, Dr. Ellie Sattler.

She came to a stop next to my left and peered into the pool area. Instead of the great awe and wonder I had assumed would take over her just as it did the others her eyes scrunched in worry, locked onto the plant life that adorned the edges of the pool that gave the setting its tropical feeling.

"What is it?" I dared to ask.

"I don't believe it!" the blonde threw her hands in the air and began sulking after the others with surprising speed. I actually had to jog to keep up with her stomping steps. " _Serenna veriformans?_ Really? How can people be so... so.. _naïve_!" She turned her fiery blue gaze to my shocked and confused ones. "Those plants? By the poolside? The spores of those plant contain a deadly beta-carboline alkaloid. Simply _touching_ it will make you sick! If a child were to get their hands on that plant they will almost certainly die!"

I wasn't sure how to respond to this new information, so I refrained from saying anything while the enraged female beside me silently fumed. I wasn't in her field of training, so I didn't feel very obligated to speak. With that being said; Dr. Ellie Sattler _is_ the expert on prehistoric plant life, and if she said those plants were dangerous then they must be. I realized then, that, as I had been blinded by and gawked over the sheer beauty the forest and plants this island had to offer, I had failed to remember one crucial thing:

Beauty kills.

I suddenly didn't feel quite as 'jaunty' as before.

Up ahead, I saw the large, dramatic building with a series of glass pyramids along the roof. The hut-like building was ginormous and I hoped I would not become lost within the corridors as Hammond explained that we would be staying in this building for our remaining time in Jurassic Park.

As if to make the whole building look even more epic, the framing of the large doors leading into the building had the skeleton of a T-Rex carefully carved into the hard wood, along with many more complicated designs. I glazed over the carvings with a delicate hand before scampering after the group.

We all made it into the building and, to say the least, I was pretty impressed with the décor inside as well. The inside was huge; the lobby room formed a gigantic circle and the ceiling was a sunroof. The walls were made of light gray marble with fossils of creatures such as velociraptors carved elegantly into the stone. A few workers stood on tall ladders so as to dust off the skeletons of a tyrannosaurus and a small sauropod, both permanently petrified in an ever ongoing battle.

And, to finish the museum look, was a long black banner with, _'When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth'_ written in red. I'll admit, the words kind of made it seem childish, but the rest of the decoration made it easy to overlook. Even with all of the prehistoric décor, the epic room did not look to be done just yet, and a multitude of power tools and wires and lumber were scattered tediously along the floor.

The small group and I followed after the rambling old man blindly as we looked in awe at the large building and slowly started up a spiral staircase _._ John Hammond was going on about all of the things that were to be added in and all of the new exhibits and little things I didn't much care to know about at that moment in time. It was as I had been daydreaming about all of the new research I would have to do and previous explanations I would have to alter due to sudden introduction of the new information that I noticed the others talking among themselves and I decided to listen in.

I just caught the end of what Dr. Ellie Sattler was saying. "So? What do you think?"

Grant scoffed, "I think we're out of the job."

"Don't you mean _extinct_?" Malcolm jumped in. No one thought it was too funny. Malcolm blew it off easily and turned to nudge me in the shoulder. "What about you, Amy? You don't seem too terribly upset."

I shook my head with a shrug, "it's been discussed among my group. We all imagined this day would come. However, we didn't know it would come so soon."

"Story of our species," Malcolm said, laughing. "Everybody knows it's coming, just not so soon."

"My only question is," Grant thought aloud, "where'd they get the DNA?" I had been wondering that as well.

There had been many speculations hinting that some laboratories in England and Tokyo were quickly gaining the abilities to clone extinct creatures, possibly even creatures such as dinosaurs – if they were ever able to get a DNA sample, that is. The problem with that is the only traces of dinosaurs we have left are fossils and the fossilization process destroyed most of the DNA cells. Of course, if a dinosaur was frozen, or preserved in a peat bog, or mummified in a desert environment, then its DNA _might_ be recovered.

That was only a theory, however, and since no one has ever actually recovered a frozen or mummified dinosaur there has been no DNA to test that theory with. There is nothing to clone _from_. All of that modern genetic technology is useless. It's like having a Xerox copier but nothing to copy with.

"You can't reproduce a real dinosaur," Ellie Sattler voiced these concerns, "because you can't get real dinosaur DNA."

"Unless there's a way we haven't thought of?" I suggested.

"Like what?" Grant asked, the interest heavy in his voice. All I could do was shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know." And I didn't. Every scenario I thought of could easily be proven wrong or ineffective. I just didn't know how any of this could be possible.

A man named Ed Regis joined our group shortly after and Hammond did a quick introduction of the man, who happened to be the Public Relations Manager. Mr. Ed Regis was a rather young man. He was tall and well-built with a handsome face and charming smile. He briefly mentioned missing his child's birthday party in order to give us the most "exhilarating" and "informative" and "life changing" tour of our lives. He waved off our concern easily, claiming his wife was better at handling a dozen or so water gun-wielding little eight-year-old girls in princess dresses than he.

We all moved to the lunch room and had a five star meal, courtesy of the head chef Alejandro. "It is awfully late," Hammond said after a short and forgettable conversation about nothing. "Ed here will be showing you to your rooms and we will continue our tour in the morning!" Ed Regis escorted us to our rooms, which all happened to be on the top floor and lined up down the same hallway. After he had gone, the mathematician tried to impress me with a few choice words but quickly gave up and instead went trailing after the pretty blond paleobotanist like he was some lost puppy. Grant went to bid me goodnight, but I was in my room with the door shut firmly behind me before he could utter out the first word. Afterwards, I felt sort of bad. I was being more than childish with the way I had been treating Dr. Grant.

Here I am; the simple paleontologist from Germany meeting _the_ Dr _._ Alan Grant and I was acting like a spoiled little girl who didn't get her way. Maybe I should work on whom my grudges were aimed at; after all, it wasn't Alan Grant who had promised me a position in Biosyn. It wasn't Alan Grant who failed to tell me of the sudden monthly quota that had to be met. It wasn't Alan Grant who had very nearly ruined not only my life, but the lives of my friends – my _family_. No, the fault was not with Alan Grant but with Lewis Dodgson.

I desperately tried to get my mind off the fact that the poor Dr. Grant had been wrongly taking the full blunt force of my famous German Wrath and instead decided to take in the surroundings of my room. The room wasn't quite finished yet; there were stacks of lumber in the closet and pieces of electrical conduit on the floor. There was a television set in the corner with a card lying on top. I picked up the small rectangular piece of paper between my fingers. It read:

 _Channel 2: Hypsilophodon Highlands_

 _Channel 3: Triceratops Territory_

 _Channel 4: Sauropod Swamps_

 _Channel 5: Carnivore Country_

 _Channel 6: Stegosaurus South_

 _Channel 7: Velociraptor Valley_

 _Channel 8: Pterosaur Peak_

The names were irritatingly cute. I clicked on the TV but got only static. Tossing my backpack on the bed I plopped down on the soft corner with a loud sigh. I sat there staring at the wall for a good few seconds before I threw my arms out and collapsed onto my back; my hair splaying around like a messy halo in result of the dramatic fall. Directly over the bed was a large pyramid skylight. It gave off a sort of tented feeling; like I was sleeping under the stars. Unfortunately, the glass had to be protected by heavy bars, leaving striped shadows to fall across the bed.

I paused. In the helicopter I had managed a quick once-over for the plans of the lodge and I didn't remember any bars on the skylight. In fact, as I squinted my eyes to get a better look, I noticed that these bars appeared to be a rather crude addition. _'They've changed the planning?'_ I wondered. ' _Why would they do that?'_ Now that I had the chance to think about it, there _was_ a large, inch-thick, twelve-foot-high fence surrounding the visitors building. That hadn't been in the plans either. It was as though they were trying to make the place out to be a fortress...

Maybe Hammond really was trying to kidnap us.

The sun had finally set and yet I was in no mood for sleep. I had dressed in my baggy ex-boyfriend's shorts and shirt and had nestled myself into the covers and yet sleep would not come. I tried and tried and tried again to keep my lids closed, but to no avail. I even tried to re-draw the valley of the dinos from memory just to pass the time until I did get sleepy, but I couldn't get anything drawn past the basic sketches before getting bored. My brain just wasn't having any of it. After God knows how long of tossing and turning and failing to sleep or draw or write some notes, I threw the covers off of me like they were on fire and jumped out of bed with the same quickness.

I didn't bother to cover myself up with one of the complementary robes or even to put on a pair of shoes as I left my designated room. I made a sharp right and headed down the hallway. I waltzed right on past the elevators and instead flung myself down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. I let my feet carry me, blindly going down the the unfamiliar path in the strange building without a passing thought. Before I realized it, I was outside, standing at the edge of one of the many tropical – yet deadly – pools.

The air was refreshing; it was as though I hadn't been breathing inside that building at all and I realized, then, just how claustrophobic the building was making me feel. I closed my eyes and sighed into the cool, crisp breeze, loving and relishing in the feeling of my tousled brown hair and goosebumps-covered arms and legs. Off in the not-so-far distance I could hear low trumpeting and, if I imagined hard enough, I could feel the vibrations of their powerful vocal cords or ground-breaking thumps of their legs surge through my tiny body. The visitors building was on a hill and if I looked hard enough, I could have sworn I could see a few of the trees moving in an almost alive sort of way. I smiled and longed for the herd of animals and it honestly took all of my restraint not to go bolting out into the wilderness in search of the living fossils.

This is the reason my mind refused to turn off; the scientific side of my brain was longing for the thing it desired most in the world. It longed for the very thing that every paleontologist had yearned for over countless of years; ever since the very first fossil was discovered, with that I have no doubt! And here I was on an island with just that; a numerous amount of the very creatures I and every other paleontologist had dreamed of. All my mind could bare to think of doing in this moment would be to study, study, study, and I couldn't wait until the next day where I could do just that.

Screw that trip to Italy; I was on the Costa Rican island of my dreams!

"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" an all too familiar voice suddenly said.

"Extraordinary," I breathed out. I turned and actually managed to smile at Dr. Alan Grant. He stood a few paces behind me and looked like he had been having a hard time getting to sleep just as I had. His sandy-brown hair was disheveled, his blue eyes bore dark bags, and he was shoeless and half-wore a red and white plaid robe that was lazily thrown over his shoulders and over a loose-fitting white T-shirt. Unlike me, however, he had taken the time to put on a pair of jeans. Honestly, he _did_ look rather attractive; especially with his strong, digger's arms and broad chest showing without shame in the illuminating moonlight, and I found myself wanting to run my fingers through his soft-looking hair...

I immediately threw out the very thought of finding Alan Grant attractive; we were here on purely business – this was not a romantic getaway where lonely paleontologist could hook up for the weekend while also sightseeing for some random dinos.

Despite myself, I felt my cheeks heat up watching his bare muscles move and stretch and ripple under his sun-kissed skin as he moved his arms to cross across his hard chest and I quickly forced myself to look back out at the night scenery before me, hoping Grant would just wander off somewhere else and leave me be.

That was not the case, however, and not seconds after my wish had left my mind he had stepped up beside me. We stood in silence, and I wasn't completely sure he realized just how awkward I was becoming. My bare toes scrapped the cement and my fingers tapped my thighs. Although there were actual dinosaurs just a few miles away from the very spot I stood, I was finding it quite hard to stay focused on their moving and bobbing heads. How could I? Alan was standing so close to me! I could see his silhouette against the moonlight in my peripheral vision and could feel the heat off of his skin. It was _overly_ distracting.

His elbow grazed mine and I felt a sudden shutter rack my body. Horribly embarrassed by my body's reaction to this man's touch, I quickly wrapped myself in my arms, playing like I was cold. Without a word, the male paleontologist shrugged out of his robe and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Here," he said with a smile. I was too petrified to respond. I was tempted to hand back his robe, to insist that I didn't need it, but the warmth of his body heat radiated off of the soft fabric and penetrated my cool skin with its warmth and I found that I didn't want to give it back.

It even smelled like him... The smell was sort of 'earthy' smelling. Like a forest the early morning after it rained. In my life I had spent many cold and unforgivable nights in a terrible storm with nothing but the company of a few excavators I was traveling with and the crude tent we had quickly set up. Although the night was hard, the next morning was possibly the greatest sight on Earth – besides seeing a live dinosaur, that is. The sun would just be rising, gleaming off of the water droplets, making the plants shimmer and gleam, almost dance in the light. The dirt would have been disturbed by the rain and would give the clean crisp air that extra hint of the forest. It always was such an endearing moment in my life, witnessing those beautifully wonderful mornings, and it seemed as though Grant had his fair share of those moments as well. I made sure the male paleontologist wasn't looking and I took a quick whiff of the collar of the robe, taken in that familiar scent I loved so.

I snuggled the thing tighter around me and mumbled out a pathetic, "thanks" in response to Grant letting me borrow his garment. We settled into another silence. I tried to restrain myself – I honestly did try – but eventually my eyes were sliding over the wild, tangled forest and back to the man at my side. He stood at least a head taller than me, and I was able to get a good long look at the serene smile his handsome face bore. The smile was so sweet and beautiful that it could have easily rivaled John Hammond's in that moment of most infectious of smiles.

I couldn't exactly describe the look the paleontologist had. It was serene and scared and nervous and gorgeous, yet excited and arousing and intoxicating all at the same time and I couldn't help but to be even more astonished by the great Dr. Alan Grant.

I looked back out over the beautifully out-of-this-world place with an entirely new smile to my face. "It truly is wonderful, isn't it, Dr. Grant?"

"Please, call me Alan," he insisted.

"Fine. It truly is wonderful, isn't it, _Alan_?" We both laughed. It was a soft kind of laugh, a laugh that two old friend might share when reminiscing of old memories.

"It truly is spectacular, Dr. Young."

"Please, call me Amy."

"It truly is spectacular, _Amy_." I laughed again. It was horribly cheesy, the way we had swapped causalities, but it was funny all the same. I tried to push down the soaring feeling my heart received when he said my name, right beneath the fluttering feeling in my gut whenever he laughed. As we settled into a more comfortable silence than before, my mind began to wonder – just how it normally would whenever it got enough chance to – and I asked the question before I could clamp my mouth shut.

"Do you think there's something off about this island?"

"You mean, besides the fact it's inhabited by sixty-five million-year-old prehistoric creatures?"

"Come on, I'm serious."

"So am I." I chuckled and nudged him with my shoulder lightly and he did the same. Then, he sighed. "I don't know. There definitely is something going on, but I'm not quite certain what it is just yet."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who's noticed."

"By the way," he nodded towards the pools, "those plants are poisonous."

"So I've heard,"

The corner of his lip twitched upward. "Ellie's already informed you?"

I nodded. "First one to know. She is quite-" I trailed off, looking for the right word. " _Tenacious_ , isn't she?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckled.

"So, you two-" I trailed off and almost instantly regretted that decision. Why would I ask an almost complete stranger such a personal question? And it wasn't like I didn't already know the answer; they were sleeping in the same room, for God's sake!

Just as I had suspected, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head and answered, "yeah... Yeah we are."

I nodded and smiled the best smile I could. "Yeah? Good! That's good..."

"Well, what about you? Are you single? Well, that sounded a little weird."

"Just a little," I joked, trying to relieve some of the tension. It worked, and he chuckled along with me. "But yes, I am currently single."

"A beautiful girl such as yourself? I find that hard to believe."

I laughed. He laughed lightly as well, but rubbed his hands together and I assumed that that must be his nervous tick. It was cute. "That's funny?" he asked uncertainly.

I nodded, still laughing. "Anyone believing I'm beautiful deserves a laugh, Alan."

"Come on, don't say that. Would I lie to you?" My laughter trailed off as I stared at the man thoughtfully. Even in the night, I could see the perfect color of his crystal eyes crisp and clearly. I thought hard to myself. Would this man lie to me? There were no reasons for me to believe otherwise. After all, this man _is_ a complete stranger...

 _'Is it strange I keep needing to remind myself of that?'_

As I looked at Alan Grant, trying not to get lost in his gorgeous eyes, I smiled. "No, I don't believe you would." He smiled back, and it was one of the most beautiful and tranquil smiles I had ever seen. I was so taken by this that I missed what he said.

"Huh?"

He chuckled. "I asked if you remembered what Hammond said on the plane? About our groups merging together?"

"Oh. Why do you bring that up?"

"Well," he shrugged and scratched the back of his head again, "our groups _do_ consist of some of the top minds in American Paleontology. It doesn't sound like too bad an idea, merging them."

I blinked hard, trying to keep the sheer surprise out of my eyes. "You mean, you want to become partners?"

"Only if you're willing, of course."

 _'Okay, play it cool,'_ I commanded. _'Don't act too desperate. Don't seem too intrigued.'_ I took a quick calming breath and asked, "what of my infamous German Temper? You know first hand the power of German emotions. Are you sure you'd be able handle that, Alan?" I raised a brow, a smirk playing on my lips as I pushed down my nervous and twisting stomach. I can't blow this.

He made a look like he was really thinking over the many different possibilities and tragedies that I could create, then broke out into a broad smile. "I think I can manage."

"Well then, Dr. Alan Grant," I stuck out my hand, quickly before he changed his mind. "If the rest of my colleagues agree, then you've got yourself a deal."

"Let the deal be settled," his large, calloused hand gripped mine and I didn't want to let go. We gave a firm, up-down shake. This was amazing. This was spectacular! Not only was I hired by InGen, invited to an island full of dinosaurs by _the_ John Hammond himself, but the greatest paleontologist I had ever had the pleasure of meeting had looked past my notorious German Temper and very well could become my business partner! _This was the greatest few days of my entire life!_

Then, the moment was completely ruined when I yawned. Alan chuckled and I couldn't help but to as well, despite my embarrassment. "I guess I better be getting back to bed," I said, awkwardly brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Alan nodded, "it is getting pretty late, but I think I'll stay out a little longer. Would you like me to walk you to your room?"

I quickly shook off his offer, "no, it's fine, Alan. I think I can manage."

"Well, alright. Goodnight, Amethyst." I turned on my heel and hopped up to the glass door. "What? Don't I get a 'goodnight' back?" Alan called after me and I couldn't keep the cheesy grin off my lips.

"Nope!" The last thing I heard before shutting the door was that certain laugh that only Alan Grant seemed to posses.

I reached my room quite easily for a girl with no sense of direction in an entirely new and unfamiliar area. I only took two wrong hallways before realizing I was on the wrong floor and I only got the room numbers mixed once. I finally arrived at my room – the correct room this time – and sent out a quick "thank you" to whoever was watching over me that the doors did not yet need a key, for I had completely forgotten about that when I all but ran from my room not to long ago. Just as I was closing the door I heard someone call out my name. I whipped around and was met by the laughing blue eyes of a certain old man.

"John Hammond," I greeted rather breathlessly. "What are you doing out so late?"

He laughed at my response and he wiggled a finger at me. "I could ask you the same thing, Amy. I just simply could not sleep – you may be having the same problems as I – and it just so happens that I was passing by when you came back in from the pool area. Beautiful place, is it not? I think those ferns really make the place 'pop'!" I could only nod, still a little stunned by how fast the old man was talking while my brain tried to keep up. "Well, it also just so happens that I have been needing to speak to you so I thought "what better time than the present?" and, well, now, here I am!"

I blinked hard, still trying to decipher what point the old man was trying to get me to understand. "You... need to speak with me? About what, exactly?"

"Well, um, Amy dear, this is a conversation that must be discussed behind closed doors," he said, his eyes darting around, looking for some late-night stalkers that might be overhearing our conversation. I gave him an odd look, peaked down both hallways to find them utterly empty, then stepped aside for the old man, despite me rather reluctantly doing so.

"Yeah, sure, come on in, Mr. Hammond."


	5. Mr DNA

_**A/N: Alright, first off, I can't thank you guys enough. I mean, 100 followers? And almost 3k reads? I can't believe my eyes! I actually almost cried when I saw my story status, haha!**_

 _ **And the comments I have been receiving have really made my days just so much better. And I especially love the pairing name you guys came up with. Alamy is really so adorable!**_

 _ **I've got to say, I never would have thought that one of my stories would be good enough for a pair name and I am quite honored by this, haha.**_

 _ **And just so you guys know, I am still going off both the BOOK**_ _ **and**_ _ **the MOVIE so there will be a scene in this chapter that you may not recognize by just the movie. Just so you guys don't get confused and think I'm pulling shit out of my arse, haha!**_

 _ **Alright so, before we continue with the story, I will be re-editing some of the previous chapters. Nothing too major and there will be no new information you will need to know so you probably wont need to go back and re-read everything. It will just be some minor spelling/punctuation/grammar errors that need to be fixed or will continue to bug me, haha.**_

 _ **Well, that's all for now.**_

 _ **Hasta la Pasta~**_

* * *

I blinked hard into the darkness, my tired, sleep-deprived eyes trying to make sense of the dark objects that littered the room the rest of the group and I were being herded into. I couldn't make out a single thing, especially with the blinding sunlight still beaming mockingly through the open door as the stragglers of the small group shuffled in, trying not to trip over each other as they stumbled and yawned.

That elderly man must have been some kind of super human. Not only did he keep me up increasingly late the night before, but he had still been able to wake up at some ungodly hour of the morning in order to personally make sure we were up by six-thirty and ready to eat breakfast by seven. I had no idea how he had managed it all. He was all but bustling around our shoulders like a pesky fly while we tried to eat and fully wake up all throughout breakfast.

The man had even managed to survive my early morning attack unscathed!

Well, "attack" is a strong word. There were plenty of other rough mornings in the past that I could use the description "attack" for. This was more of an "aggressively thrown pillow" type of morning...

That old-timer is not the best at realizing when he is not wanted, especially with the way we left things last night. So, after a well-aimed pillow from me, it took Mr. Ed Regis coming and coaxing me out of bed with the promise of sugared-down coffee, scrambled eggs with extra bacon, and a Tylenol. Although, considering I would be around a certain old man for the entire day, I would probably need two.

I gripped my to-go cup filled with the hot, perfect morning saving grace a little harder than what I should have when said old man pushed past me. I couldn't wait for the weekend to be over and done with.

"Over here!" he was saying excitedly, gesturing us further into the dark with an old and wrinkled hand. "This way, now! Sit, sit, sit!" I scowled and took a large gulp of the coffee, downing half of the hot liquid in one go. Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler, and Alan Grant filed into the theater-like seating in the center of the room as a large screen slowly began to light up as the computer powered on. Now that my eyes had time to adjust I realized that the place was theater-like in itself. Actually, a miniature theater is exactly what this place was.

Dr. Grant caught my eye. He was offering me a warm, welcoming smile and he patted the open seat next to him, gesturing for me to sit. I couldn't help but to huff and role my eyes at the man. I plopped down in the surprisingly comfortable seat right next to Donald Gennaro and behind Dr. Malcolm, furthest away from the male paleontologist.

 _'Like I would actually sit next to Dr. Alan Grant.'_

He casted a mildly bewildered and a damaged, perplexed look my way. I merely gave him a passing glance as I turned my gaze to the screen before me, however it was long enough for me to see something else besides bafflement. He actually looked a little hurt by my actions... I crossed my arms firmly across my chest.

 _'Good.'_

The screen had fully powered on by that time, and the monitor showed a rock-textured background with the classic _Jurassic Park_ logo across it. As John Hammond, all nice and fixed up in his all-white suit re-adjusted his hat, another hat-less version of himself walked onto the screen, absentmindedly fixing his black suit jacket. Then, the screen Hammond paused and looked out to his audience, and he smiled like he had just noticed us.

" _Oh, hello there!"_ Video Hammond greeted us.

The real Hammond turned to us expectantly, then shook his hands at us, "well, go on then. Say hello!" We passed around a few awkward glances before Dr. Sattler decided to meet the older man's wishes with an unsure wave and small greeting. Luckily, John Hammond seemed satisfied with that.

The Video John looked to the right and said, _"how are you, John?"_ where the real one stood. The real Hammond smiled pleasantly. The video continued after a short pause, _"well fine, I guess. But, uh – how did I get here?"_

"Oh– I have lines!" John gave a startled jump as his hand went searching desperately fast through his pockets. His unoccupied hand held up a finger to us as he quickly said, "wait, I have my notes!" He slipped out a few paper-pads out of his shirt pocket and began reciting whatever he had written with great haste, trying to get caught back up and in sync with the video. "Uh... Oh- well, let me show you. But first, I'll need a drop of blood; _your_ blood!" He proceeded to act out pricking the finger that belonged to Video John Hammond, who jumped back in pain.

" _Ow! John, that hurt!"_

"Relax, John, it's all part of the miracle of cloning!" And then, from behind the first Video John Hammond, stepped out another. He greeted the first with a smile and handshake and a "Hello, John!" From the opposite side, another one stepped out. The process was repeated multiple times until the entire bottom half of the screen was filled with a multitude of John Hammonds.

"Oh jeez, I can hardly deal with one Hammond," I murmured with a role of my eyes and a sip of coffee. The joke received both positive and negative responses. The mathematician and paleobotanist both chuckled quietly while the lawyer, who was leaning over the back of the chairs in front of him eagerly, hanging on to every word that was being said on screen like his life depended on it, nudged me with his boot and hushed me. I rolled my eyes. The footage hadn't even said anything new, let alone groundbreaking. This was child's play at best.

The group before me were now whispering among themselves over the missing DNA and the sequence gaping issues and even managed to toss some ideas back and forth on where and how anyone could even attempt what John Hammond had clearly succeeded to, however they got the same reaction I had from Gennaro and they were quieted pretty quickly. Honestly, it was kind of funny seeing how interested the lawyer was and how seriously he was taking the knowledge.

As the multiple Hammonds continued to talk among themselves a little strand of colors swirled out of the pin-pricked finger of the original Video Hammond. It spun around his head for a moment before becoming more clear in what it was, and I realized it was a DNA strand with a face. The little guy floated over Video Hammond's shoulder as the clueless man looked around in the opposite direction for it. The strand tapped his shoulder then zoomed to the other shoulder and out of the old man's sight.

Finally, the Video Hammond caught sight of the strand and laughed, " _Oh! Mr. DNA! Where did you come from?"_

" _From your blood!"_ Mr. DNA exclaimed joyfully.

"Only DNA from John Hammond could smile _that_ much," I whispered and got an almost exact copy of my last remark.

Mr. DNA continued to narrate as the background behind him (as well as he himself) morphed and changed to show a picture of what he was explaining. He explained of how DNA strands are the blueprints of all living things, and that the blueprints of dinosaurs were sometimes left behind for us to find. All of that information was pretty basic.

But then the screen changed to focus on that of a mosquito, and my attention was fully grasped.

" _A hundred million years ago, there were mosquitoes, just like today."_ Mr. DNA was saying. _"And just like today, they fed on the blood of animals; even dinosaurs! Sometimes, after biting a dinosaur, the mosquito would land on the branch of a tree and get stuck in the sap."_ The screen changed to a couple of paleontologist digging at the top of the screen, but my eyes were drawn to a round, orange sphere buried far in the dirt.

" _After a long time, the tree sap would get hard and become fossilized; just like a dinosaur bone!"_ The two paleontologist dug down until they finally reached the little orange circle. The lead man picked it up and held it into the light of his headlight. The little mummified mosquito was unmistakable, as well as the realization that hit me like a ten ton sack of bricks to the chest.

So that little bug inside that beautiful piece of amber just so happens to be the mummified DNA of a dinosaur? For hundreds of years paleontologist had been searching for a petrified dinosaur, and yet this entire time the answer was as small and as simple as a mosquito in a rock that could be found literally anywhere?

 _'My God, it just might work!'_ However, I quickly realized that simply finding dinosaur blood inside a bug wouldn't work, even if it _was_ mummified in amber. The DNA would have to be sixty billion years old at the very least. How could there not be major gaping in the sequencing?

That's when Mr. DNA mentioned my concerns, and I was once again locked in on the video. _"We use the complete DNA of a frog to fill in the holes and complete the codes! And now, we can make a baby dinosaur."_

"My God," the words were out before I could stop them. The real Hammond, who had taken his seat next to the lawyer, chuckled at my reaction. "John, this is genius... This really could work!"

"And it has, Amy, my dear," he said. Then he waved his hand dismissively, "this score is only temporary. It will have very dramatic music; _bomb, bomb, bomb_ \- a whole march or something! And then of course, the tour moves on," he pushed the button on a small remote he was holding and a safety bar gently slid down and locked over our laps as the seats began to move.

We slowly rotated as though we were on a moving pedestal and soon the screen before us had changed to that of a laboratory. The room beyond the glistening windows was bathed in a dim green light. Four technicians dressed in white lab coats were either peering into double-barreled stereo microscopes or looking at images on high-resolution video screens. The room was filled with the gorgeous yellow-orange stones. The stones were in glass shelves, cardboard boxes, and large pull-out trays. Each stone was tagged and numbered in black ink. As Mr. DNA explained what the scientist were doing, the ride continued on.

The DNA recovering room slowly passed on by, only to be replaced by a second room. This room, like the last, had few staff members in lab coats, however this room was all white. There were incubators, much like the ones some hospitals would use in their nurseries. "What's that room, Mr. Hammond?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Oh, that's the Hatchery! And Amy dear, please call me John; Mr. Hammond is so formal."

I gaped at the man. "W-well, can't we go see the newborns?"

"Oh yes of course! After the presentation." With that said, the rest of the group exploded with their protest.

"Now wait a minute, John," Dr. Grant said with haste. "How do you interrupt the cellular mitosis?"

Dr. Sattler pleaded, "can't we see the unfertilized eggs?"

Hammond waved his hand and said, "shortly, shortly." I couldn't believe the old man. Here was our chance to see an actual newborn dinosaur and he expected us to wait? Setting my now empty coffee cup on the ground I tried pushing up on the safety bars – a desperate attempt to get out of the seats – but they were locked in securely and I was trapped. Grant tried to get free as well and asked, "can't you stop this thing?"

"Well, it's uh- sort of like a ride," John Hammond said, rather irritably. That did little to stop the male paleontologist as he strained against the tight bars. Then, Dr. Malcolm and Dr. Sattler both joined in and with a soft _'Click!'_ the bar was raised. The trio wasted little time in jumping out of their seats and darting back up the isle as Hammond stuttered and gasped like a fish out of water as Mr. Gennaro stared on in shock. Not wanting to be left behind, I began struggling against the bar even harder, however it did not even wobble from my forced weight.

Finally, while calling out and trying to get the rest of the group to at least wait for us, John pushed a button on his remote and the bars raised up. Hammond was out of his seat and following the other three back up the stairs within moments, leaving me and the lawyer in their dust. Donald seemed a little hesitant at following along – this must have been braking many rules in his law-abiding mind– but I was not about to be left behind along with him and I quickened my pace in order to get caught back up.

I pushed open the double doors that lead back into the previous hallway, only to see that the same, beaming grin Hammond always seemed to have was once again on his pale lips. "Alright," he said as Gennaro finally made it out of the dark theater room, "so our tour continues!"

We trudged along, all silently wondering what the Nursery would be like but not daring to ask the questions out loud. Despite the small _'clicks'_ of our shoes, there was not another sound in the entire building. It would be a sin to disrupt the silence.

The wall directly in front of us was pure glass, showing a balcony that overlooked some palm trees that showed through the early morning mist. We made a right turn at the glass wall. The wall opposite the glass had doors filed down the hallway, all with little stenciled signs screwed in near the top. Halfway down the hallway there was a door that held a bio-hazard sign and my stomach did flips:

 **Caution!**

 _Teratogenic substances_

 _Pregnant women avoid exposure_

 **Danger!**

 _Radioactive isotopes in use_

 _Carcinogenic potential_

"Never mind the signs," said Hammond. "They're only up for legal reasons. I can assure you that everything is perfectly safe." He paused next to a window. "Here's our control room. The entire park is controlled through here." We all crowded together in order to see inside.

The dark room beyond the wall looked a little like a miniature version of Mission Control. There was a large horizontal glass see-through map of the park, and facing it a bank of glowing computer consoles. Some screens displayed data, but the majority showed video images from around the park. There were only two people in the room.

"We are low with staff at the moment, as you may very well have noticed," Hammond informed us. "Well, we can operate the park fully with just twenty people. That's how many we have; twenty. But there will be more when we actually open. That man there," he pointed to a man with dark colored skin, who was smoking a cigarette as he eyed one of the monitors, "is our chief engineer, John Arnold. Next to him is our park warden, Mr. Robert Muldoon, the famous white hunter from Nairobi." Muldoon was a burly man in tan khaki with sunglasses dangling from his shirt pocket. He glanced out at the group, gave a brief nod, then turned back to the computer screens.

We continued down the corridor until we reached a foggy glass door with yet another bio-hazard sign hanging on it. The sign above that read _Hatchery_.

Hammond reached for his security card but stopped short when the door was pushed open from the other side. Out stepped a young Asian man dressed in his lab coat, looking over the papers he was holding. "Ah, Hello Henry!" Hammond greeted the man and they exchanged a friendly handshake. "This is Dr. Henry Wu, our chief genetics. I will let him explain from here." Dr. Wu gave us all a welcoming "hello" and shook our hands as we did the same in turn.

"It's a little warm in here," Dr. Wu advised us before allowing us to enter the room. "We keep it at ninety-nine degrees Fahrenheit and a relative humidity of one hundred percent."

"Jurassic atmosphere?" Grant asked.

"Yes. Or, at least, we presume so. If any of you feel faint, just tell me." Dr. Wu inserted his card into the security slot. "Just a little reminder; don't touch anything in this room. Some of the eggs are permeable to skin oils. And watch your head; the sensors are always moving." He opened the door to the inner nursery and we went inside. The room was very large and bathed in infrared lights. The eggs lay on long tables, their pale outlines obscured by the hissing low mist that covered the tables. The eggs were all moving gently, rocking in their own little spot in the makeshift nest.

Setting his clipboard and papers down on a nearby table, Dr. Wu began explaining, "reptile eggs contain large amounts of yolk, but no water at all. The embryos must extract water from the surrounding environment, hence the mist."

There were dozens of robotic machines, all stationed at their own group of eggs. Their single robot arm plunged into the bowl of mist, turned an egg, beeped, then went on to the next; turning every egg every hour.

"Our survival rate is somewhere around four percent," Dr. Wu said. "Naturally, we want to improve that."

"How long does it take for the embryos to fully grow?" I asked.

"The incubation period varies with each animal, but it generally runs about two months. Dinosaurs mature at a rapid rate and they attain their adult size in a mere two to four years."

"Is there anything hatching now?" Grant cut in.

"Not at the moment. We try to stagger hatching to make work on the nursery staff easier. You can imagine how it is when we have a hundred and fifty animals born within a span of a few days – though, of course, most don't survive. Actually, these X's are due any day now." Dr. Wu, then, clasped his hands together and turned to us with a smile. "Any more questions? No? Then we'll go to the nursery, where the newborns are."


End file.
